


Three Deaths and One Near Miss

by fanfictiongreenirises



Series: Self-Indulgent Petty Revenge Fics [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, Hamilton and Twilight crossover, Multi, Vampire AU, god I didn't know I remembered to much from these bks why brain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 09:54:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11895255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictiongreenirises/pseuds/fanfictiongreenirises
Summary: Three times they died and one time they survived.





	Three Deaths and One Near Miss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lesty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesty/gifts).



> Sorry this took so long to post (actually I literally wrote it in a few hours oml I should've started earlier) 
> 
> @[Lesty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesty/) u thought I was joking didn't you

Alexander Hamilton was born on the fifteenth of January in the year 1757. His life was remarkable in its own way; becoming an orphan at the tender age of twelve, surviving a hurricane at the age of seventeen, and migrating to a new country to begin life anew, he found few who could truly relate with his experiences.

That is, until he realised he didn’t need others to relate with similar _events_ , just experiences. It took Alexander a long time to differentiate the two. 

He first recognised a kindred spirit in Hercules Mulligan, upon arriving to finish his studies. He remembered being introduced to the tall man, his elder brother Hugh standing beside Alexander and clapping him on the back. He remembered the late-night conversations, and sometimes when he looks back on his life, he realises just how much he owes the people he’s left behind. God, he was buried next to him…

The Marquis and General Washington were two other figures in his impressionable youth. They were…altogether quite impossible to describe. Alexander felt warmth he hadn’t felt in centuries when he thought of his time with them. He regretted so much…

And then there was John Laurens.

Alexander couldn’t quite remember the first time he met John, but he remembered all the moments that mattered, and that was enough. John was a spark amongst the blood and mud. He was an idealist, and possibly one of the best people Alexander had known, fierce in his belief that the principles they were fighting for were hypocritical if they continued slavery.

And then there was Elizabeth Schuyler.

  

* * *

 

3.

The Schuylers were terrifying. Alexander couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but there was something _off_ about them. That, however, didn’t deter him from his skirt-chasing.

John began to act _off_ , too.

“I thought I made it clear that you will always be mine,” Alexander murmured one night as they lay in their military tent one night. He ran his mouth over John’s clavicle, smirking slightly as he felt the other man’s breath hitch in his throat.

“Alexander…” John gasped slightly, arching slightly into him.

“Shh, my dear Laurens,” came the soft reply.

And that was how the majority of their troubles were soothed.

 

* * *

 

 

John didn’t know what to make of this. What sort of a wife allowed another man into their marriage? He had no doubt that she would know all about the transgressions between him and her new husband. 

But as he lay on the massive bed, Alexander leaning over him to kiss Eliza, he didn’t particularly care. That is, until Eliza opened her mouth and fangs began to shoot out.

“What the fuck?!” He flew backwards, falling off the bed the hitting the cold, hard floor. His left side ached, but all he focused on was getting far, far away from whatever demonic being Alexander had married.

At a sharp laugh, he shifted his gaze from the pale creature to Alexander sharply, growing confused at his amusement. His first thought was _hypnotisation._

“My dear Laurens,” Alexander said between chuckles, “there’s nothing to be afraid of.” He knelt down beside John, placing a hand over his chest where his beating heart lay. “She’s one of the old, good kind.”

John stared at him in disbelief. “What is she? What’s she done to you?” His voice was practically a whisper in the quiet that suddenly enveloped them. There seemed a sort of pause in the very air around them, as if even the candles and moonlight shining in through the window were waiting for Alexander’s response.

“My Betsey’s a vampire,” Alexander told him, smiling back at where Eliza still sat. She hadn’t moved since John had leapt away, and sat perfectly still. Eerily still. John could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise, warning him of danger.

“So they exist,” he murmured, trying to regain control his breathing. He’d heard stories; no child in South Carolina had made it to manhood without being warned of the dangers that lurked in the shadows.

Alexander nodded frantically, practically vibrating from energy. He was an anomaly here, amid the stillness of everything around him, but that was his Alexander… 

“Are you…” He let his eyes ask the question, silently pleading.

“Not yet,” Alexander replied, practically beaming at him. John didn’t know how one person could contain so much mirth during a moment as fragile as this. “Eliza plans to Turn me tonight.”

John drew in a shaky breath. “Am I –” He broke off, unable to finish the sentence.

“John, no,” Alexander said firmly, placing his hand on John’s shoulder. John looked him in the eye for the first time, and found himself believing him. He nodded, forcing a smile.

But that didn’t mean he was alright with watching his Alexander be changed into a creature of the night, unable to walk in daylight again without taking numerous precautions. Unable to last without drinking the very blood that used to run through his veins. 

But he stayed long enough to know that Alexander woke from his death.

 

 

2.

John Laurens died on the twenty-seventh of August, in the year 1782. He would look back on it as a pivotal moment in his life, and spent much of his time wondering if he’d change his mind if he knew then what he knew now.

He could never decide. 

Alexander had given him a vial of his blood to wear around his neck on the day they parted. He’d gripped his shoulder tightly, but not with as much strength as John knew he contained; he was always, always conscious that John was now fragile. John could now be broken by him.

As John lay bleeding out in the war-torn battlefield, he looked at the sky. It was the same sky he’d seen for the entirety of his life. He knew he’d lose his eyes sooner than other senses, if he chose to go down this path. John could still hear clearly, the sounds of gunshots and the pounding of hooves on the ground, the vibrations running through his body. He couldn’t feel the pain. He knew he’d been hit somewhere vital, but he had no idea where. 

A bird flew past.

And suddenly, John remembered. John remembered the way Alexander’s body had felt on his, the way he felt alive beneath his hands, how he had finally found a similar spark that matched his. He didn’t see his life flash before his eyes, nor did he see a white glow, but he remembered his defining moments. He remembered his siblings, and his Martha and Frances.

God, he would never forgive himself if he didn’t at least _try_.

John would remember thinking this later, and realise that there wouldn’t’ve _been_ a ‘never’. He would’ve been dead. But he didn’t entirely regret bringing the vial to his lips shakily, swallowing its disgusting contents.

John didn’t know how long it was until he woke anew, viewing the world with brighter eyes.

 

* * *

  

He would come to realise that there were many things he would forget, but the look on Alexander’s face when he showed up on the Hamiltons’ doorstep one day was not one of them.

His face was weary, having the look of one ageing much too fast in a short time, although vampires were unable to actually become tired or sick, unless they were deprived of their food.

Alexander stared at John for a beat too long before pulling him in for a tight embrace. He still wasn’t using his full strength. John didn’t say a word, simply responding by returning the embrace with _his_ full strength, at which Alexander froze slightly before shoving John at arms-length and looking him over. 

“You took it?” he asked in disbelief.

John nodded. “I was dying.” 

Alexander dragged him inside the doorway, calling out for Eliza.

 

 

1.

Alexander Hamilton knew he was abrasive. He knew that provoking Aaron Burr wasn’t a wise idea, but he couldn’t help him lack of mind to mouth filter. That was what he called it; Eliza's term was ‘idiocy’.

But none of that could be helped now. He had to fake his death. He had to witness his close friend, Morris, almost break down at his deathbed, his adopted children asking their mother why he wouldn’t open his eyes.

He was afraid to. He didn’t want to see their faces and know that he was abandoning them like his father abandoned him, didn’t want to see their faces like this one final time before he was no longer a part of their lives. He would outlive them. The Schuyler clan didn’t Turn every child, just a select few.

He’d have to leave Eliza, and perhaps even John. He’d have to leave behind everything he’d ever known, again. For the first time in his admittedly short life, he regretted Turning.

He opened his eyes one final time to say farewell.

 

* * *

 

 

It was the year 1927. John and Alexander were in a quiet bar in New York City. They could finally return without being recognised. Eliza was travelling around with Angelica and Peggy, having decided that she didn’t wish to begin another life for the time being. They still kept in contact as well as they could, but there were often months between postcards, and Alexander cherished every piece he received.

He knew that the deaths of their children, and then their grandchildren, had been harder on Eliza than on him.

A man suddenly walked into the bar. He wore his hat low over his face, but there was no mistaking the predator gait. The man was a vampire.

Alexander nudged John slightly, indicating with his head. John smirked, a light in his eyes that told Alexander he found the man attractive.

Walking over to the vampire together, they sat down on either of his sides. “Afternoon,” Alexander said conversationally.

The vampire glanced up at him warily. “I have to wish to harm you, gentlemen,” he began with a low voice, “but I’m not against defending myself if need be.”

John let out a laugh. “Trust me, sir, we mean you no harm,” he said, shifting his head to the side cockily, “that is, unless you mean us harm.”

The man shook his head, still appearing like a dog with its hackles raised, bracing itself for a fight.

“I’m Alexander Hamilton,” Alexander said, deciding that introductions were in order.

“John Laurens,” John added, nodding his head in greeting.

“My name is Edward Cullen,” the amber-eyed vampire said, relaxing slightly. Alexander was pleased to discover that all this was following what a psychology paper he’d read had outlined.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Edward Cullen,” John purred, sidling closer. “Might I suggest moving to a more,” a glance around the almost empty bar, “private location?”

Edward recoiled slightly. “What are you implying, sir?”

“My partner,” Alexander made sure to stress, to see where this man’s ideologies lay, “is simply suggesting a conversation.” He couldn’t resist adding, “However, if conversation becomes a bore, we could move to far more interesting ventures…”

“I will not!” Edward said abruptly. He seemed ready to bolt, but John’s next question had him stay in his seat.

“What are you doing with yourself? You’re newly Turned, you have that sort of a scent on you.”

He sighed in a resigned way that made it clear to Alexander that he’d explained himself to many prior to this meeting, and had not been faced with approval. “I am seeking to redeem myself through acts of justice.”

“What sort of acts?” John was suddenly more interested, and Alexander couldn’t help sending a fond glance towards him.

Edward looked uncomfortable. “I will join you in that conversation, if the offer is still available, but that is all,” Edward stated firmly. As he didn’t glance around the bar, Alexander deduced that it wasn’t the opinions of others he was worried about. Possibly some inner morality concern.

“Lead the way,” he said to John, a razor-sharp smile flashing on his face for a second.

 

 

+1

It was the last day of the year 2006. There were days where Eliza couldn’t believe she’d seen so much time pass. And then there were times where she couldn’t believe that _some_ had seen the passage of almost the same amount of time and still remain…

“…so stupid!” she shouted, glaring at Alexander and John as the two shuffled sheepishly before her hot gaze.

“Betsey,” Alexander began.

“Don’t ‘Betsey’ me, Alexander!” she retorted, unwilling to hear his long-winded explanations. “What were you thinking?!”

“I—”

She didn’t give him the opportunity to answer her before turning to John. “And you! Don’t think I’m any less furious at you!”

Alexander opened his mouth, and then seemed to think better of it. _Finally_ , Eliza thought. Finally, he learns. She continued, “We only _just_ avoided the full-blown war this idiot clan almost caused. Do you realise you two almost singlehandedly began another?” 

“We thought it’d be best interests—” John was just as successful as Alexander had been.

“ _What part of taunting the Volturi on their lack of a vampire rights declaration seems to be in anyone’s best interests?”_

**Author's Note:**

> The amount of researching I did for Herc for that one paragraph rip ALSO WHERE IS THE INFORMATION ABOUT THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN LAF AND HAM THERE IS NOTHING ONLINE???
> 
> Also John was the one who convinced Laf to free slaves which i think is hecka cool.
> 
> Okay if you've read this far, then I'm so sorry you had to suffer my atrocious xover that I wrote for the sake of writing trash. It didn't turn out as horrible as I'd intended =/. 
> 
> Did anyone pick up the musical reference I dropped?
> 
> Check out the rest of our petty revenge fic series (this is #4) and come scream at me on tumblr =D


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